


Running Interference: Three Times Setsuna Interfered with History (and, in hindsight, probably shouldn’t have.)

by GirlWhoWrites



Category: Sailor Moon - All Media Types
Genre: Drama, F/M, Gen, History, Human Resources is going to hear about this, Humour, Mythology - Freeform, Setsuna isn't paid enough to put up with this, strange
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-24
Updated: 2014-02-24
Packaged: 2018-01-13 15:01:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1230817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GirlWhoWrites/pseuds/GirlWhoWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As the Guardian of Time and Space, Setsuna had to make sure certain things happened to certain people at certain times.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Running Interference: Three Times Setsuna Interfered with History (and, in hindsight, probably shouldn’t have.)

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written December 2007 for sm_monthly on Livejournal; this was one of my favourites and when I found it again, I decided to upload it here. It's a very strange bit of fun. The only changes that have been made are spelling corrections; even the notes are back from 2007. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

**One. Versailles, 1789-1792**  
 _Do your duty today and repent tomorrow – Mark Twain_  
  
The corset stays were pinching her. The times she most longed for the Silver Millennium were the days spent in the Queen’s rooms, watching a group of over-privileged women gossip, laced into the abominable thing. She stood stiffly in the corner of the room, longing for the flowing gowns and delicate undergarments of her home. A time long gone.   
  
It was tempting, as she dropped into another uncomfortable curtsy, to wipe corsets from fashion history this second. The palace’s medical bills would drop shockingly without ladies fainting every which way.  
  
She watched as the Queen arranged herself on an elaborate chaise, covered in blue and silver fabric, a glass of champagne in one hand, smiling at her companions – many vacuous, some genuine and quite a few being paid to recount every word to various spies.   
  
The Queen turned her gaze to the strange woman before her. With dark hair that she refused to powder, and her darker complexion, Mademoiselle Moreau was very polite and rather excellent at designing and remaking dresses, if exceptionally quiet and rather eccentric, even for the French court’s standards.  
  
Refocusing on the conversation about France’s poverty, Marie Antoinette frowned. The country was in debt and she could see no way to lighten their burden. Patting the puppy in her lap, she commented absently on something that was said to, her mind mulling over possible solutions.   
  
Setsuna heard the comment, and excused herself, recognising her opening.   
  
The gardens of Versailles were astounding, and Setsuna knew she would miss this sight in the years to come. Crossing the lawn leisurely, Setsuna found herself in the presence of one of the foremost spies of the Queen’s court.   
  
“Mademoiselle Moreau,” he bowed in greeting. “Not attending the Queen on this lovely day?”  
  
Setsuna smiled, easily slipping into the role of vacuous lady in waiting. “Oh, no, the Queen has many ladies in her company, and I couldn’t bear the heartless things she was saying.”  
  
 _Forgive me, my Queen, for failing you in your time of need._  
  
“Oh?”  
  
Setsuna steeled herself. History was already written; she was merely another actor on a stage. “The ladies were informing her that the country people had no bread, and Her Majesty replied, ‘then let them eat cake.’”  
  
 **Two. Cambridge, 1666**  
 _There are no accidents without intention – Alex Miller_  
  
The Moon had never had apple trees – and neither had Pluto, for that matter. The closest thing to apples had been found on Jupiter, and that fruit hadn’t been quite so sweet. In fact, the taste of Earth apples (no matter how many decades had passed since the Fall) still made her mouth pucker with the sweetness. Apples were too sweet, lemons too sour. Setsuna was undoubtedly homesick for a time, rather than a place.   
  
With her long skirt hitched up a little higher than convention would allow (honestly, Setsuna was looking forward to the 1920s), she pulled herself into the branches. This was the power of suggestion in its most perfect form. Through the leaves, she could see the young man walking in the garden. Clambering further into the tree branches, crouched uncomfortably, Setsuna was struck with the thought of the uproar that she would cause if she was discovered sitting in an apple tree with her skirt pulled up to her knees (thank gods above that she didn’t have to appear in her fuku for another few centuries, when society got a little more tolerant), and a way of sadness that reminded her of the games she had played when she was a little girl, with the other girls…  
  
He was closer now, and it was imperative that he not see her in the tree. She could see the shiny red and yellow fruit, ready to be ‘helped’ off its branch and into the history books.   
  
Three… two… one…  
  
 _Thunk!_  
  
“Ow!”  
  
“Oh, Mister Newton, I’m so terribly sorry!”  
  
 **Three. The Underworld, unknown.**  
 _I believe that we are solely responsible for our choices, and we have to accept the consequences of every deed, word, and thought throughout our lifetime - Elisabeth Kübler-Ross_  
  
She was young. That was the first thing Setsuna noticed – or as she was known in this domain, Pluto. The girl was young, and beautiful, with glossy dark hair and expressive eyes and the soft look of someone who hasn’t had to fight a day in their life.   
  
And she wasn’t dead. She wasn’t living, either. Another in-between, leftover from the Silver Millennium, but without the purpose, the knowledge, the duties. No, in this world, this time, the blessed sat a top a mountain and only helped their people when they felt like it, if those that struggled and prayed and worshipped them enough – and if the gods and goddesses weren’t busy with their affairs of the heart.   
  
“Who are you?” the girl’s voice shook as Pluto stepped out of the shadows, her Time Staff glittering sinisterly in the dim light.   
  
“Pluto,” she replied simply, looking around. “What are you doing down here?”

“Oh, it’s been horrible! I was kidnapped, dragged down here and he says that I am his wife and his Queen.”  
  
And that moment would signify the invention of various swear words, but it wasn’t really a moment Sailor Pluto would want to be reminded of.   
  
Hades, another of the ones who seemed to have acquired powers that did not belong to this time nor place, was not Pluto’s favourite person. Yes, he served a purpose in the Underworld – her domain by birth and duty, it has to be said – but generally, he was an irritating individual who would have made an exceptional goat herder if Pluto hadn’t been busy keeping the other residents of Mount Olympus in line.   
  
And now he had abducted one of them - a pretty thing, too; there was always a bigger uproar when the pretty ones went missing. And no doubt, she would get the blame; Hades overlooked the Underworld on behalf of her, so she was responsible for whatever bout of stupidity had overtaken him.   
  
Frankly, in moments like this, she missed Sailor Uranus’ antics almost painfully. Uranus might have been far too interested in the contents of the other senshi’s fuku than was strictly appropriate at court, but she’d never abducted anyone.   
  
“What on Olympus are you wearing?” the girl made a face, and straightened the robes she wore. “You look ridiculous.”  
  
Pluto closed her eyes, a headache pounding at her temples. She wouldn’t punish this girl for Hades’ never-ending parade of stupid. She wouldn’t. It would be unfair and cruel and… by god, would the girl stop snivelling? This was her legacy, not Hades! He had no right to bring in some child-bride to play house with!   
  
She resisted the urge to stamp her foot, and eyed the platter of fruit on the table before the tear-stained girl, obviously left by Hades.  
  
“Persephone, is it? I shall speak with Hades about this… situation. Wait here awhile. You must be hungry.” At the girl’s nod, Pluto offered her a thin smile. “Help yourself.”  
  
\---  
 _Fin_.   
\---

**Author's Note:**

> All scenarios were compared to Wikipedia's notes. Not the most reliable source, but the most easily accessible. Any dates or inconsistencies, I apologise and blame Wikipedia for.
> 
> 1\. Marie Antoinette's supposed infamous quote "let them eat cake" has pretty much been proven not to have been said by her. Even the variations upon the statement are said to have been made before she arrived at the French court. But, hey, Setsuna's in charge of history, and certain things need to happen!
> 
> 2\. This was Isaac Newton's revelation about gravity, with the apple, if it wasn't clear ^_^ I have no idea how I thought this up. 
> 
> 3\. I've seen this scenario worked in with Pluto/Setsuna playing the role of Persephone. Frankly, the idea that the senshi descend from the Greek Gods and Goddesses never sat with me, simply because I feel that the Silver Millennium was over long before any of this. And the reference to Pluto ruling over the Underworld is that fact that the first biographies and translations of BSSM I came across listed Pluto as the Guardian of Time and Space. And the underworld is a space. Saturn, however, is the senshi of the acts of birth and death; Saturn is the cause, Pluto is the keeper, if that makes sense ^_^
> 
> If anyone made it through this fic, thank you. You deserve a medal and a cookie.


End file.
